


O-Eats

by DirtyKnots



Series: Omega Eats [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Everyone is a Werewolf, Extremely Underage, Felching, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Daddy Kink, Older Stiles Stilinski, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Rimming, Young Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 03:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18460637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyKnots/pseuds/DirtyKnots
Summary: This prompt brought to you by my friend DirtcoreDreams over on Twitter.Prompt:Stiles is an omega college dropout just trying to sort out what he's doing with his life....read the full promptherebecause it's too long for the summary section.Basic Summary:Stiles is an omega and a recent college dropout. His heat is coming on when he gets stuck watching the Hales' 12 year old son Derek, who has recently presented as an alpha (though Stiles isn't aware). Smutty shenanigans ensue.





	O-Eats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dirtcore Dreams (NakedEye)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NakedEye/gifts).



> READ THE TAGS. Seriously. Don't be the person who doesn't (or who does and ignores them) who tries to come at me about shit they don't enjoy in fiction appearing in this fic.

He shouldn't have taken the last delivery request - he really shouldn't have. But money's been tight since he dropped out and moved back home and Stiles has needs. Sure, the needs are not like, life-altering or anything, but still. There's things he wants at least. Not the point. The point is, he completely fucked up his suppressant schedule and he'd thought he would have enough time to get in one last delivery run for O-Eats, the on-demand delivery service known to primarily hire omegas. It was an easy job, low-risk...usually.

Except Stiles had been a little lost lately, and that meant he wasn't really paying attention to anything, including his meds. He'd felt the stirrings earlier today, but he thought there'd be plenty of time to work for a few hours and then make it home. He hadn't counted on a delivery order that meant picking up a pizza on the west side of Beacon Hills and then driving clear across the town and deep into the preserve. He cursed the stupid app not telling him the delivery address until he was locked in on again when he felt another dribble of slick escape his clenched cheeks, hopefully not making an obvious wet spot through his boxer briefs and onto his khakis.

Stiles was almost too flustered to keep driving, nearly missing the turnoff to the Hale's drive. He knew them a little from around town, Talia was mayor and worked with his dad a lot. She had a couple kids too, a girl a few years older than him and then a younger son - an unexpected pregnancy late in life if he remembered the gossip right. She and her husband were a mated pair, so at least his heat flush wouldn't affect them at least. He just needed to get the pizza dropped off and get back onto the road - if he could make it that long, he could pull into one of the many turn-offs and finger himself until his head was clear enough to make it home safe. 

He stumbles as he exits the jeep, sweat beading on his brow a little, another dribble of slick leaking out when he leans back in to grab the pizza. His underwear are feeling damp but Stiles brushes a hand over the back of his khakis and they still feel dry thankfully. He's maybe walking a little funny, trying to keep his hole clenched tight, but he makes it to the door and rings the bell, hoping they hurry the fuck up.

“Oh thank god you're here! Listen, the hospital called and Laura's in labor and Peter's out of town so we just need you to stay with Derek for tonight. This should probably cover it and if not we can discuss more payment in the morning. Thanks!” Stiles doesn't have time to even get in a single word as Talia flings open the door, shoving handfuls of cash at him while her husband rushes out from behind her, unlocking their car. She keeps speaking, voice getting louder as she heads toward the car, sliding the door open and dropping into it.

“Wait! Hey wait!” Stiles makes it one whole step down the porch before the Hales are churning up dust in their haste to get to the hospital. “Fuck my life. Just...seriously, fuck my life.” A few crumpled bills drop to his feet and Stiles stares at them forlornly.

“Are you coming in or what?” Stiles does not jump at the voice behind him. He doesn't. Whatever. When he turns back to face the door, there's a boy in it, can't be older than 12 or 13, who's raising an impressive brow for a kid to have at him. Stiles sighs and stretches the arm with the pizza towards the kid.

“I take it you're Derek?” The nod he gets feels unnecessarily judgey, but at least the kid takes the pizza box, leaving Stiles free to bend down and scoop up the dropped cash. Unluckily, it forces him to unclench enough to let out yet more slick. The confusion of the last couple minutes washing away quickly as he feels another flash of heat. He shoves the money into his pockets a little frantically and rushes back up the steps, brushing against the boy and holding back a whimper at the contact. This is a kid, not even into puberty. Fuck the heat hormones. 

“Where's your bathroom?” The words are half mumble but the kid points down the hall and Stiles nods and rushes off, calling back to shut and lock the door, completely missing the flair of the boy's nostrils as he passes.

Stiles is momentarily distracted from his heat by sheer awe when he gets into the bathroom. He knew the house was large, but he didn't realize it was big enough to house a half bath that was larger than his bedroom at home. There was a toilet and sink, but also a bidet and a vanity with a goddamn tufted bench in front of it. Whatever, his gain. He strips off his shoes and pants, wrists brushing against his erection and making him whimper. He leaves those by the door and moves to the sink, turning to inspect his backside and confirming his underwear are a total loss. He peels them off and drops them in the sink, he'll rinse them out when he's done and find the dryer or something. 

Stiles glances around and spots the towel rack, snatching up one of the bigger, clearly decorative ones. He'd feel bad except the Hales abandoned him without even asking if he could stay, so fuck it. He folds it in half and drops it onto the bench seat before sprawling out on it. He's flushed and his hole is leaking steadily now that he isn't trying to keep it clenched up, so it takes no effort at all to slide two fingers inside his ass. He doesn't even think about holding back his moans, doesn't think about anything except chasing his orgasm and pushing the heat back for a few more hours. 

The tile echoes back his moans and sighs and the loud squelching of his fingers as they ram in and out of him. Stiles isn't careful with himself, the need rising up and overtaking rational thought. He flips to his front, somehow managing not to fall, rises up on his knees as he fucks himself back onto his fingers, adding a third and spreading them a little. It's not as good as a knot, or even his knotting dildo, but it's enough. Especially when he buries his nose in the fabric beneath his face and catches faint traces of alpha, enough to let him fall into the fantasy that it's not his own fingers filling him up.

“Fuck yes. Mmm so good alpha. Finger me, stuff me full. Need it. Please alpha.” It's just enough to get him there, and he nearly sobs as he nails his prostate one last time and comes, cock spurting over the towel. He collapses forward, fingers sliding free from his dripping hole, and pants into the bench for a minute before the haze finally clears some. With luck, he'll maybe only have to do this a couple more times before the Hales get back, and then he can get himself home before his heat kicks in completely.

When he's got his breath back, Stiles peels himself off the bench and then just stares down at himself. His thighs are glistening with his own slick, though the pulse of it has finally slowed again, and his belly is covered in come from where he fell into the puddle. He glances around the bathroom and spies the bidet again, hurrying over to it. He's never used one, but thankfully it's pretty self explanatory, and he settles down onto it before flipping it on. And fuck, maybe it wasn't the best idea because the pressure of the water against his hole feels so much better than he'd anticipated. He does his best to tamp down on the arousal that's trying to rise, shifting so the water splashes against his thighs and balls, rinsing them as best as he can before shutting it off and moving away. His sopping underwear are still in the sink, so he rinses them in warm water, uses them to wipe his belly and cock clean as well as possible and then rinsing them again. He uses a second decorative towel to dry and then pulls his pants back on, feet slipping into his shoes. 

Stiles is going to have to pay better attention, considering he's now without the barrier of his underwear to protect his pants, but he'll figure it out. When he's as presentable as can be, he slips out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him - no sense traumatizing the kid if he doesn't have to. He can hear noises from the dining area that he can see off the hallway, but he moves past and back outside, tossing his wet underwear into the jeep and retrieving his cell phone. He shoots off a quick text to his dad to let him know he got roped into babysitting for the Hales and then sets himself as off duty on O-Eats, marking his final delivery as done. He shoves his phone in his pocket and heads back into the house, locking the door behind himself.

“Um, I made you a plate?” The voice is soft and a little hesitant, but at least it doesn't startle him this time. Stiles turns and gets his first real look at the boy. He's definitely as young as Stiles first thought. But he's also taller than average for his age, and while his body is still slender, Stiles can already see the shape of the muscles he's starting to build. His eyes are a strange green, set into a face with a bone structure that's going to have angels weeping in a few more years, the baby fat almost entirely gone already, and thick brows set just under soft dark hair in need of a trim, if the way the kid is desperately shoving at them is any indication. Stiles is a little surprised by the gesture after the kid practically glowered at him when he'd first arrived.

“Thanks, lead the way.” Stiles expects to be taken into the kitchen or maybe the living room, but the kid - Derek, he should probably use his name since he does actually know it - bypasses both of those and leads him instead into a formal dining room. There are two places set, candles burning on the table and a bottle of wine breathing. He narrows his eyes, because jesus how irresponsible of the Hales to rush out and leave lit candles and liquor out. He mumbles as much to himself as he leans over the table to blow the flames out, catching the scowl Derek gives him.

“Sorry, I'm sure the just forgot in the rush.” He feels a little contrite for disparaging Derek's parents in front of him, but the apology just makes Derek glower a little more. Whatever, he's not going to apologize any further. Instead he settles himself in the seat that Derek indicated, happy to see there's several slices of the meat lovers pizza on his plate alongside some salad. He digs in, only half paying attention when Derek picks up the wine bottle and fills the glass in front of Stiles' plate. He's about to say something when Derek sets it back down, not even trying to pour himself some. In the dim light it almost seems like he's blushing when Stiles glances from his glass to Derek's face.

“They wouldn't want it to go to waste.” The words are mumbled and said with a shrug. Stiles thinks about for all of five seconds before giving his own shrug and taking a sip. He promptly forgets he's sitting at the table with a kid when he moans as the wine explodes on his tongue. He's never had decent wine before, and he's a little amazed at the start flavors he can pick out, the alcohol burn nearly nonexistent. He thinks this must be ridiculously expensive. Derek's definitely blushing when Stiles finally remembers himself and sets down the glass, and it makes Stiles blush too.

“That's, uh, really good.” He clears his throat and smiles. The answering smile from Derek is nearly blinding in its intensity, and Stiles feels heat creep in his belly, though he doesn't understand why. He's never had such an inappropriate reaction to someone so young before, not even in the throes of heat. Something inside him prickles with awareness that he doesn't understand, so he turns back to his food. They eat in relative silence, and Stiles loses track a little as he drinks the wine, noticing that Derek is quick to refill it when his glass is empty. 

The tendrils of his heat begin seeping back in, but it's not far enough along yet to do anything, so he helps Derek clear their plates and load the dishwasher, corking the remaining wine even though Derek insists his parents won't mind if Stiles' finishes it. When everything is put away, Derek leads Stiles to the living room, settling almost right against him on the sofa as he flips on the TV, surfing through the movie channels. The awareness hasn't gone away either, seeming even worse actually now that Derek is a scant few inches away, the heat of his body seeming to brush the air around Stiles’ bare arm. He blames that for why it takes him so long to realize that Derek's switched to HBO and that Prince Oberyn and his consort Ellaria are on-screen picking out whores in a brothel. His heat flares hard along his skin before he regains his senses.

“Yeah, no. This is so not appropriate.” He tries to snatch the remote but Derek switches hands, and Stiles practically falls on him trying to reach for it.

“Why? It's just sex. My parents let me watch it.” Stiles doesn't even have to look at his face to know Derek is lying and he doubles his efforts as Ellaria disrobes another woman on-screen.

“Right, I highly doubt that one.” The struggle causes both of them to tip down onto the sofa and Stiles manages to get the remote when he lands on top of Derek. He sits up onto his knees, arms raised in victory before his brain catches up to the position and he realizes there's a hardness pushing against his ass through his khakis, his hole starting to get wet from the sensation alone. Derek's face is flushed and his pupils are enlarging and Stiles scrambles backwards off of him and into the corner of the couch, his heart thumping harder in his chest as he tries to calm down. It takes Derek a few seconds to shake off the haze of whatever happened and sit up himself, but he doesn't say anything, just scoots back next to Stiles and takes the remote back, sitting on it before Stiles can react. 

“I've seen it anyhow, even if they don't actually let me.” His voice is matter of fact and somehow that does more to help Stiles relax than he'd expected it would, despite the fact that Derek is definitely pressed against his side now. He tries to ignore the heat brought on by the skin to skin contact and the sex happening on the TV as best as he can, to push the need back down for a little longer. If he gets off too much, he'll trigger the full heat. He has to stick to a schedule here if he's going to make it through to the morning.

Stiles takes a deep breath, nostrils tickling with that faint hint of alpha again - probably Talia - and he tries to settle back, licking off his shoes and toeing them under the coffee table. The show moves away from the brothel, thank god, but the prickling awareness stays. He's not really paying attention, but at least his mind is somewhat occupied, his attention distracted from the growing wetness that he's having trouble keeping inside his body. They make it through the episode and half of the next before Stiles knows he's got to go take care of himself again. It's less time than he had hoped to get, and he wondered if the lingering scent from the alpha of the house was driving it on. It shouldn't, because she's mated and her hormones should be muted to anyone except her mate, but something was clearly affecting him, and that was the only answer Stiles could come up with.

Stiles tried to hold out a little longer, tried to clench tighter, but if he ruined his pants he wasn't sure what he was going to do. When he stood, it was abruptly in the middle of a scene, and Derek reached beneath himself for the remote to pause the show.

“Are you okay?” His concern was sweet but Stiles really didn't have time for it. He barely glanced at the kid before moving around the sofa and towards the hall.

“I'm fine. I'll - just go ahead and watch, I'll be back.” Stiles hurries down the hallway, barely making it back inside the bathroom before he’s shucking his pants and stripping off his shirt, dropping them just inside the doorway again. Heat is flaring across his soon, worse than before, and he almost doesn't make it to the bench before he's pushing his fingers back inside his aching hole. It gives him enough relief to drag himself up onto his knees, making a better angle. His fingers are long, but not quite long enough to nail his prostate the way he likes. Instead, he's barely able to brush the tips of them against it, making his whole body shudder when he does. 

Stiles is lost in the heat haze, fingers slamming into himself, and later he'll explain that that's why he misses the sound of the door creaking open. He'd forgotten to lock it, his need clouding his mind. He misses the footsteps that pad closer and the clack of knees hitting the tile floor behind him. Hell, he even misses the hot breath that washes over his hole - though that could be because it can't override the heat curling off his skin. He doesn't, however, miss the cool wet tongue that licks a stripe from his balls to his hole.

“Holy fuck!” He rocks back into it, feeling his hole pulse out more slick around his fingers. The tongue starts lapping at him, sliding over his knuckles where he's still fingering himself, dipping between them to lap at his rim and dive inside, and Stiles thinks there's a reason he should stop this but it just feels so fucking good. He's whimpering now, the scent of alpha stronger, his body aching to be taken, to be filled with more than his own fingers and the brief twists of the tongue.

“Alpha please, please fill me. Knot me. Make me yours. Give me your pups. I can make it so good, please alpha. Please.” The last word comes out on an elongated whine and he feels soothing hands briefly stroke his hips before the go away. He's ready to beg again but he stops when he hears the rasp of a zipper and the shuffle of clothes, and then he nearly sobs with anticipation, knowing his alpha is going to give him what he needs.

A hand wraps around his wrist, gently tugging to get him to slip them out of his ass. He doesn't want to, but the pressure is insistent, and he relents, hoping his alpha will fill him right back up. His fingers are engulfed in wet suction, his alpha cleaning them of his slick. He lets them go almost immediately though, and Stiles does sob when he feels blunt pressure against his rim. The hands are back, brushing along his sides, and he relaxes enough that his alpha can slide right in, cock buried to the root on the first thrust. Stiles doesn't realize he's shaking until there's a heavy weight draped against his back, bare skin to bare skin, and a voice in his ear.

“Shhh. I've got you, I'll take care of you. You're mine and I've got you, my beautiful omega.” The words are soothing for a moment, but the thick length of the alpha cock inside him has helped to push back the haze enough that Stiles can remember himself. Remember where he is, who was in the house. The voice confirms it and Stiles almost wishes the heat haze had stayed, because he's going to have to stop this. Derek is too young. Stiles doesn't realize he was speaking aloud until Derek answers him. “M'not. Had my first rut two weeks ago. I'm an alpha, I can take care of you.”

Derek punctuates his words by drawing back and slamming hard inside of Stiles, forcing a cry of pleasure from him. It feels so good, he doesn't want it to stop, he should though. He should make it stop. In just a minute. 

“Such a tight hole, so wet for your alpha. Such a good omega. Gonna make you feel so good baby.” It should sound ridiculous coming out of Derek, his voice still cracking around the words, but instead it wraps around Stiles, makes him feel wanted and cherished and fulfilled in a way he hasn't been since he dropped out of college. “Don't worry baby, alpha's gonna give you what you need. Gonna stuff you up with my knot, flood your belly with my come. Gonna fill you up with my pups.”

Every word is punctuated by a sharp thrusts, Derek's cock banging on his prostate almost every time. Stiles’ cock is leaking onto the still wet towel from earlier, his hands gripping the sides of the bench so he doesn't slide forward, doing his best to rock back and meet the thrusts. He should stop it, pull away, but he can't, not when he can feel the tug as Derek's knot starts to swell, hear the popping squelches as it pushes past his rim and back out. 

“Fuck yes, taking it so well. Can you feel it baby? Feel my knot? It's just for you. Gonna tie you.” It's only a few more thrusts before Derek makes good on his words, knot locking tight behind Stiles’ rim, keeping them locked together. Stiles can feel the warm rush as Derek starts to come inside him, the gentle tugs as he ruts and grinds against Stiles’ ass. When a hand wraps around his cock, it only takes two strokes before he's clearly ching down, sparking another rush of come inside him as he spills over Derek's fist, further soaking the towel. When he's done, Derek slips his hand free again, and Stiles can hear him sucking the come off his fingers.

He's almost fully back to himself now and shame washes through him. He's stuck, can't crawl away from it, but he wishes he could. At least for a moment before he feels gentle kisses against his shoulder blades, the back of his neck, hands rubbing his sides again, drifting down the work at his sore thighs, sliding between them to caress his hole where it's stretched tight against Derek's knot. 

“It's okay. It's gonna be okay. You were so good for me.” Stiles finds himself nodding along with the words, relaxing into them. He did need it, his heat was picking up faster than it should've, probably because there was a mature - well, presented anyhow - alpha in the house with him. Stiles isn't sure how long they're there for, Derek whispering soothing words, caressing every part of him, kissing his back and neck, before he feels the swelling inside him start to soften. 

“Tighten up baby, I filled you a lot, don't wanna make more of a mess.” Stiles feels wrung out and complacent, nods his agreement and tightens as Derek slips free. He's not expecting it when Derek uses surprising strength to flip him, his back hitting the wet bench with a soft thud, and he can't help but take in Derek, the way some baby fat still clings to his frame, the almost consistent lack of body hair aside from a small tuft growing just above his softening cock. It reminds him again of how young Derek is, how he should've put a stop to this, should've remembered to lock the door. Before his thoughts can spiral further, there's a sharp nip to his thigh.

“It's okay Stiles, I wanted it too. Now, grab your legs for me, let me see your pretty hole. Wanna see how wrecked I made it.” Stiles just…stops fighting his instincts. He feels like he should feel bad more than he actually feels bad. And more than that, he wants to please his alpha. The heat haze is banked for now, sated with how full he is, and he decides to stop fighting his own wants. Because Derek did what he said, he took care of Stiles, satisfied his needs, filled him up better than any previous heat partner had.

Derek must sense the change in his attitude because he smirks, and it should look weird on his too-young face, but the dirty curl of his lip is hot anyhow. It makes heat flash in his belly, fleeting but there, and he draws his knees up, hooks his hands behind them and spreads his legs. It feels filthy, putting himself on display like this, and he can feel how it forces his hole to relax a little, come and slick sliding down his taint. But the hunger it elicits in Derek's gaze is unmistakable, so he pulls his legs even wider, relaxes a little more until the trickle becomes a drizzle.

“Like what you see, alpha?” The words are purred out of him, and Derek licks his lips before diving down, rubbing his face through the mess until his skin glistens with their combined wetness. It's even better when his tongue drags up, pushing past the loosened ring of muscle and scooping out a mouthful. Derek leans up over him then, and Stiles tilts his face up, opens his mouth so Derek can pass the slurry of come and slick to him. He doesn't even try to stop the moan. When Derek pulls away to trail kisses down his beck, Stiles rolls the taste over his tongue, swallowing it down. Derek's fingers are pushing into him, playing with his sloppy hole and it it distracts him enough that he doesn't realize what Derek's about to do until it's done. 

The bite to the join of his neck and shoulder is harsh, Derek's teeth digging in to stake his claim, branding Stiles with his mating mark. It should make him angry, should have him fighting the boy off, but instead he relaxes into it, let's it take hold. When Derek pulls back, licking the mark soothingly, Stiles releases his legs, wraps his hands behind Derek's neck and drags him down to leave his own mark, biting deeper than Derek had needed to, his teeth less sharp. 

“Yes. Show everyone I'm yours, just like you're mine.” Derek's words are slurred in pleasure, his cock filling rapidly and slamming back home inside of Stiles as the mark takes hold. “Gonna fuck you until you're pregnant, gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

“Do it, Derek, alpha, fill me up, give me your pups.”

This time is somehow more frantic, the heat clawing at him, driving Derek into a new rut, and they're knotted so quickly Stiles feels delirious from it. His muscles are lax and he feels impossibly full, weak, ready for a nap.

“Shhh, I've got you. Gonna take care of you baby.” Stiles startles a bit when Derek lifts him, the knot tugging against his rim. Derek adjusts his grip carefully, making sure Stiles is low enough that it stops pulling. He's honestly not sure how Derek's managing to move at all, has probably said so if Derek's laugh is any indication. “My bed's more comfortable than this bathroom.” 

Derek moves gingerly, no doubt feeling each pull just as keenly as Stiles is, but he somehow manages to shuffle them further down the hall and into a bedroom. He doesn't forget to lock the door at least, Stiles' hears the catch of the bolt as it slides home, and then he's being laid back on soft bedding, the scent of alpha flooding his nose. He turns his face to the blanket, I having deeply, earning another laugh from the boy currently tied to him. He can't be bothered to care though that Derek's laughing at him, his bedding smells too good - alpha and home and safety - and besides, Derek is peppering his chest and throat with kisses, so he's clearly enjoying Stiles’ reaction to his bed.

When Derek's knot shrinks enough to tug free Stiles tries to clench down, but Derek's fingers are in him, spreading him open. It feels like come and slick are pouring out of him, soaking the blanket, but Derek looks blissed out as he plays in the mess again, dipping down to suck some out of Stiles, smacking his lips as he swallows it down. 

“Taste good, smell good. Like us. Want our den to smell like us too.” The words spark through Stiles, lighting up the mating mark, making him bare his throat again. “So good for me. Gonna fuck you all night, keep fucking you until it takes. Want to see your belly get round, see your tits fill in, keep you so full of my come that it's always leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs, even when you're full of my pups.”

“M'yeah. Gonna give you pups. Make you a daddy.” There's a sharp inhale from Derek at that, and Stiles manages to slit his eyes open, sees the way his pupils are eating back up that pretty green, the flush on his chest. “You like that?” Stiles brushes his toes over Derek's arms as he asks, prodding at him. “Like the idea of being a daddy?” The flush deepens and it makes more slick leak from Stiles.

“Say it again.” Derek's voice has gone husky somehow, and it makes another flash of heat trip across his skin.

“What? Daddy?” Derek growls and leans down, licking over Stiles’ puffy hole. “Mmm fuck yeah.”

Derek pulls back, eyes barely rising above where Stiles’ cock is fattening back up. 

“Yeah what?” It's Stiles’ turn to inhale sharply, the smell of both their arousal filling the room.

“Fuck yeah, daddy. Feels good.” Derek smirks again, leans forward and licks another stripe.

“Tell me, tell daddy what feels good.” Derek barely stumbles over the word, nose dragging up the inside of Stiles’ thigh, and waits. Stiles doesn't hesitate, won't anymore.

“Feels good when you eat my ass daddy. Like your tongue in me, cleaning me up so you can fuck me sloppy again. Want your mouth, your fingers, your cock. Want you.” 

Derek doesn't hesitate either. The second Stiles begins talking he dives back in, licking and slurping at Stiles’ hole, sucking his come out, devouring it. He keeps going until Stiles’ is keening and coming all over himself, only then shifting his attention, laving his tongue across Stiles’ oversensitive cock, cleaning him until he's able to shift them both further up the bed, Stiles’ head finally settling on a pillow. Derek kisses him then, soft and sweet. 

“Stay here, I'll be right back. Gonna get some supplies so we don't have to leave the den again. And then I'll keep my promise, keep you stuffed full of my cock and my tongue. Gonna make sure you stay so full my seed takes tonight.” Derek's voice is oddly earnest it feels right, to be here like this with him. After months of feeling adrift, he finally feels anchored, tied to his alpha. He doesn't doubt Derek will keep his promises, all of them, and Stiles can't wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Come prompt me on [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/dirtyknots).  
> All of my additional contact information can be found on my [Profile Page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyKnots/profile)!


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